Beyond The Horizon
by Gracielinn
Summary: What kind of repercussions could saving and restoring Rufus to the time line in 2018 have on the future? The Lucy and Wyatt from 2023 are about to find out... Lucy POV, post season two finale one-shot (TFP)


Beyond The Horizon

 _A/N #1: After the season two finale, while most of the attention (rightfully so) was focused on changing the fate of our beloved Rufus, it occurred to me recently that when (not if) the two Lucys and two Wyatts saved their friend's life, such an action might also affect the 2023 time line that future Lucy and Wyatt would return to..._

" _We have always held to the hope, the belief, the conviction that there is a better life, a better world, beyond the horizon." - Franklin D. Roosevelt_

Frantically unbuckling her safety harness, Lucy slumped forward and braced her hands on the lifeboat controls, trembling as a wave of mental and physical exhaustion washed over her. Shutting her eyes tightly against the myriad flashing lights of the control panel, she struggled to breathe deeply for the first time in what felt like a century. ( _Well, actually 130 years, but who's counting?_ )

It was over–they had done it. Five years of mourning, planning, trial and error, and frustrating setbacks too many to count had all come together in a split second. And the egregious wrong committed in 1888 when Emma Whitmore had killed Rufus Carlin in cold blood had been miraculously reversed. As a result of a tremendous team effort by Lucy and Wyatt and their 2018 counterparts, plus Jiya, Connor, even Flynn and Denise Christopher, their beloved friend and teammate had been brought home safely to his proper time line. A single tear escaped as her pent up emotions threatened to overwhelm Lucy.

She shivered at the warmth of his lips against her neck when Wyatt's voice rumbled in her ear, "Lucy, are you alright?" Unable to articulate even a single word, she shook her head wordlessly. His strong arms encircled her as he whispered tenderly, "Hey, shh, sweetheart, it's alright, we're home, you can let it out now." Turning blindly from the control panel, Lucy threw her arms around Wyatt and sobbed against his neck in an attempt to exorcise the demons that had come close to consuming all of them since that tragic day five years ago.

A long moment later, her tears subsided to mere sniffles, all the while Wyatt held her firmly against him, his calloused hand gently rubbing up and down Lucy's back. Thank God for this man, her partner, her friend, her lover–what would she do without him? _Probably given up a long time ago_ , she thought gratefully. Leaning away slightly, Lucy hastily swiped at her tear-stained face, a tiny bit embarrassed by her meltdown, but before she could open her mouth to apologize, Wyatt placed two warm fingers on her lips.

"Lucy," he cautioned, "Don't you dare say you're sorry. I don't want to hear it, because if anyone deserves to shed a tear or two, it's you–are we clear on that?" before he pressed a soft kiss on her still trembling lips. " _You_ are the one who never gave up hope, kept the rest of us motivated, especially Jiya. _You_ , Lucy Preston, are the reason our friend is alive, and don't ever forget that, okay?" His intent gaze calmed Lucy and filled her heart with so much love.

She nodded and quietly declared, "I love you, Wyatt Logan," and scowled in mock offense when he immediately grinned, blue eyes dancing mischievously, and smugly replied, "I know."

Wyatt shrugged nonchalantly when Lucy's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "You did _not_ just quote Han Solo to me," she accused, but couldn't help returning the grin. He was incorrigible, her soldier–and she wouldn't have him any other way.

Dropping a firm kiss on her mouth, Wyatt stood and groaned, "I could really use a hamburger, a couple cold beers, and a little alone time with my favorite historian, followed by eight hours of shuteye. C'mon, Professor, let's hurry up and get the mission briefing over with." Lucy nodded happily, and standing, smacked the button to open the hatch door, suddenly impatient to finish up and have Wyatt all to herself.

Once the hatch opened, Lucy swung one leg over the edge and froze, half in and half out of the lifeboat, so quickly that Wyatt almost ran into her. "Jeez, Lucy, " he protested, "A little warning there before you slam on the brakes like that..." his voice trailing away as he comprehended the rigid set of her narrow shoulders. "What is it?" Wyatt demanded, instinctively pulling her aside with one hand, his gun in the other.

With Lucy right behind him peering over one broad shoulder, Wyatt cautiously poked his head out of the opening, weapon held firmly in both hands only to be greeted by a familiar cackle of laughter. "Whoa, stand down, Mr. Ex-Delta Force, what's with the gun?" Rufus asked, grinning fondly up at them from the bottom of the metal steps he was deftly pushing into place.

Bewildered, Wyatt and Lucy stared down at their friend and then at each other. What had changed in the past? _Because this sure as hell wasn't the bunker they'd just left in 2018_. "Lucy?" Wyatt muttered in a low undertone, "What have we done?" Lucy shrugged helplessly, because somehow, incredibly, it seemed she had landed the lifeboat in what looked like a new state-of-the-art Mason Industries–but that was impossible.

When they left 2023 and traveled back to 2018, their little ragtag team of rebels had still been in the middle of waging war on a Rittenhouse led the past five years by the vengeful Emma and her new partner in crime, Jessica Logan. And while it was true that Connor had been quietly accumulating assets enough to eventually rebuild his company, those plans were necessarily on hold indefinitely until the secret organization had been eradicated.

Lucy and Wyatt's silent communication was interrupted by Rufus, "Um, guys, you're kinda starting to weird me out with that whole 'we don't need words to talk to each other' thing you always do, plus we need to hurry up and get the mission debriefing over since Jiya's stressing out that Lucy will miss the baby shower, and wow–how long were you guys actually in 2018, 'cause that's a pretty righteous beard you're rockin' there, Wyatt," and when they failed to respond, he frowned, shook his head, and said, "Okay, yeah, so I'll just let Christopher know you're back," and dashed away from the platform and up a familiar flight of steps (apparently the new Mason Industries had been built to resemble a near replica of the destroyed facility), but not before throwing them a confused look over his shoulder.

"Guess we freaked him out," Wyatt observed dryly, and smirked when Lucy rolled her eyes and retorted, "You think?" before fretting, "Wyatt, something we did to prevent Rufus' death in 1888 must have changed things 135 years later. It's impossible to know–it could have been something trivial that we obviously weren't even aware of."

He tugged her close and kissed her soundly once more before murmuring, "C'mon, we can't stay in here forever, so let's just go find out what's going on. At least Agent Christopher is still in charge. Try not to worry, Lucy, we'll figure it out–we always do, right?" and looking into his dark blue eyes, Lucy felt her nerves settle, and she nodded before following Wyatt down the metal steps.

Seated around a large, sleek conference room table a short while later with Rufus, Denise Christopher, and Connor Mason, it took only a few seconds to solve at least part of the puzzle. Holding tightly to Wyatt's hand, Lucy was astonished to learn that unbeknownst to the team from 2018, Emma (the only Rittenhouse member trained to pilot the mother ship) had been fatally wounded during the shootout they instigated in 1888 in an attempt to prevent Rufus' death before she could fire the shot that had previously taken his life.

As a result of the redhead's death, once the dust settled and any imminent threat nullified, the rescue team had gladly taken control of the mother ship, returning both it and the lifeboat to 2018 (Rufus had been excited to discover that future Lucy was also a trained pilot) and a safe, highly-protected location-thereby effectively crippling Rittenhouse permanently. Within a matter of weeks, nearly all the remaining members of the organization had been rounded up and incarcerated.

Wonderful news, certainly, but there was more. Lucy and Wyatt were both dumbfounded when Agent Christopher revealed that Jessica, who had briefly served as Emma's second in command after Carol Preston and Nicholas Keynes were murdered, was dead also, shot during the very same gunfight in 1888. According to the team's mission reports from 2018, Wyatt's wife had stepped in front of a bullet meant for him, forfeiting her life for his.

A grim-faced Wyatt inhaled sharply while Lucy tried to make sense out of the shocking information. She squeezed his hand lightly, all too aware of Wyatt's conflicted feelings about Jessica. Leaning in, Lucy whispered, "I'm so sorry, Wyatt, are you okay?" and felt his hand flex involuntarily around hers before he slowly nodded. Well, it wasn't a resounding _yes_ , but for the moment, she'd take it.

While a preoccupied Wyatt sat quietly processing the news about Jessica, Lucy pressed the others for an explanation of the radically different variances in the time line she and Wyatt returned to. Once the rest of the team finally comprehended that this was an entirely new reality for the returning time travelers, they were more than willing to bring them up to speed on other changes, and not surprisingly, there were several.

With the centuries-long, far-reaching threat of Rittenhouse permanently dismantled, the entire team had been thrilled to leave the depressing bunker behind, even if it meant they were still living under the protection of the NSA. Connor had been free to rebuild Mason Industries, and in fact, working closely this time around with the government, and ably assisted by Rufus and Jiya, he was in the middle of a new time travel project. Denise Christopher had been promoted by the NSA to "Special Agent in Charge," and now served as the federal liaison between MI and the United States' newest exploration program.

Another pleasant surprise was that Lucy and Wyatt also worked on the new project–Lucy as lead historical consultant and Wyatt as Mason's head of security, a position Connor had offered the former Delta Force operative when the decimated facility had been rebuilt nearly four years ago. Apparently, their Lucy had no further interest in continuing her mother's dubious legacy at Stanford, and as for Wyatt, no longer needing a place to hide from his pain and loneliness, he had quite willingly walked away from the service. As far as the rest of the team was concerned, the two of them had jumped to 2018 on a routine mission so that Lucy could gather historical data, and per standard operating procedure put in place by Wyatt himself that Lucy was never permitted to ever jump without him, he had accompanied her.

While overjoyed to see a clearly happy and content Rufus in 2023, they were startled to find out that not only were he and Jiya married (for more than a year now), their first child was due in a few short weeks. Holding up his left hand and waggling the fingers proudly, Rufus flashed a shiny gold wedding band, and teased, "I can't believe we somehow managed to get married before you guys, though, considering that the two of you got engaged a year before we did."

 _Wait a minute? Did Rufus just say engaged? She and Wyatt were engaged?_ And that important little piece of intel was perhaps the last straw for the already emotionally over-burdened historian. Time seemed to stand still for Lucy Preston. "Wyatt?" she gasped faintly, hazy little black spots dancing around the edges of her vision as her stomach rolled queasily. Even though he was sitting right next to her, Wyatt's suddenly frantic voice calling her name sounded so far away. _Why did everyone sound so far away?_ Lucy was barely aware of him hastily pulling her chair away from the table and gently guiding her head between her knees while the others gathered around in concern, their voices blending into a jumble of unintelligible sounds before the darkness overtook her.

That was the last thing she remembered until the next morning when Lucy eventually woke, blinking sleepy eyes at the full sunlight flooding the room. _Where was she?_ Closing her eyes and concentrating all her senses, it took a minute, but from the hushed silence and faintly antiseptic smell, Lucy deduced she was in a hospital room of some kind, possibly in the medical wing of the new Mason Industries.

Hearing a soft snore beside the bed, Lucy slowly turned her head and smiled affectionately. She'd know that sound anywhere (even though the stubborn man always insisted he did _not_ snore). Sprawled awkwardly in an uncomfortable-looking chair, dark hair pushed up in spots like he'd been running his fingers through it, and his left hand holding her right one securely, Wyatt Logan was still the handsomest guy she'd ever met, inside and out. Loathe to wake him, Lucy indulged herself and gazed at Wyatt for a few stolen seconds, reflecting that even after five years, the fierce love they shared still had the power to leave her breathless.

Oops–too late. She must have moved involuntarily because Wyatt's eyes snapped open, and he immediately stood and leaned over the bed without letting go of her hand. Deep blue eyes radiating love and concern, his other hand tenderly caressed her cheek as Wyatt mildly scolded, "Damn, sweetheart, you nearly scared me to death, fainting like that...How do you feel?" Before she could answer, however, the door opened to admit Agent Christopher and a grey-haired woman in a white lab coat carrying a tablet who Lucy guessed was the doctor.

Coming to the side of the bed, the woman smiled warmly and introduced herself. "Good morning, Dr. Preston, glad to see you're finally awake. After sleeping over twelve hours, I hope you're feeling much better. I'm Dr. Catherine Marcus, staff physician here at Mason. I don't know if the Master Sergeant here has had a chance to talk to you yet, but because you were unconscious when you were carried into the medical wing, as your emergency contact, he gave consent for us to draw blood and begin treatment."

Glancing down at the tablet, she continued, "With your permission, I'd like to discuss the results of the blood tests." At Lucy's hesitant nod, Dr. Marcus noted that in addition to suffering from physical exhaustion, she was slightly anemic and dehydrated, both merely unfortunate side effects of extended time travel. The doctor assured Lucy that the I.V. in her left arm would take care of the dehydration, and she had written her a prescription for an iron supplement that should reverse the anemia. All in all, she concluded, there was nothing seriously wrong with Lucy, and she would likely be released this evening. Lucy sighed in relief and squeezed Wyatt's hand in gratitude after he solemnly promised Dr. Marcus that he would take good care of her when they got home. The doctor nodded and smiled in approval when Agent Christopher announced that she and Wyatt were considered off duty for at least the next week in order to give Lucy a chance to recuperate.

A soft chime sounded, and glancing down at her phone, the NSA agent apologized, but she was late for a meeting and quickly bid them goodbye before leaving. As the door closed behind her, Wyatt settled on the side of the bed, and leaning in close, murmured in Lucy's ear, "Whatever will we do with all that free time, sweetheart?"

Lucy's blushing response was cut off when a suddenly somber Dr. Marcus interrupted, "Dr. Preston, Master Sergeant Logan, I'm afraid there's one more test result I need to share with you," and waited patiently as Wyatt sat up straighter and Lucy tried to compose herself before she tapped briskly on the tablet she was holding. "In light of the fact that the Master Sergeant made no mention of this when he was relating your medical history, and as early on as this appears to be, I thought it might be possible you were unaware that you're pregnant, approximately six weeks, it looks like."

There was absolute dead silence in the small hospital room as she and Wyatt stared at each other in disbelief, overwhelmed as they tried to absorb the physician's completely unexpected pronouncement. Apparently the trip back to 2018 had done a hell of a lot more than save their friend–it had completely reset their future, one thankfully without the constant threat of Rittenhouse–but still, even more shockingly, a future where not only were they together and engaged the last two years, but she and Wyatt were to become parents in a little over seven months. Lucy wasn't even aware she was crying until Wyatt pressed a clean bandana in her hand, murmuring, "Breathe, Lucy, it's going to be okay, we got this," and sitting closer, put his arm around her shoulder and drew her to his chest while a flood of tears slipped down her cheeks.

Nestled against Wyatt's broad chest, nearly incoherent with shock, all Lucy could manage in between sobs were fragments of sentences. "Pregnant? All those trips? Jumping back and forth? And we're engaged? A baby? How did that happen? What are we going to do, Wyatt? I can't, I'm not ready– _we're_ not ready..."

Grinning sheepishly, Wyatt glanced up at the doctor before teasing in a husky undertone, "Well, Lucy, I must not be doing it right if you don't know how you're going to have a baby," shrugging helplessly when that only made her cry harder. Taking pity on him, Dr. Marcus patted Lucy on the leg and politely excused herself. After the door closed behind her, Wyatt took Lucy in his arms, trying to console her, "Shh, Lucy, everything's going to be alright. Not only are we two grown-ass adults who've been to hell and back, we love each other and will love this child with everything we've got. Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere, and we're going to be just fine, okay? Lucy?"

Taking a deep breath and gazing into his earnest blue eyes, Lucy smiled tremulously and nodded. Of course they would be fine. She and Wyatt had come a long way in the past five years-had seen and been through so much-and now, a safe, peaceful (happy) future awaited them. All they had to do was reach out and take it. "I love you so much, Wyatt," she whispered, her words brimming with emotion, and when he smiled lovingly at her in return, Lucy couldn't ever remember being happier ( _well, maybe except for that glorious night together in 1941_ ).

Seven months later, Lucy Preston couldn't remember being happier. Standing in the doorway of the nursery, she gently rubbed soothing circles over her prominent baby bump, enjoying the sunlight glinting off her vintage engagement ring, finally satisfied that everything was in order. Tastefully decorated in soft aquamarine and cream, with touches of baby blue (coincidentally the exact shade of Wyatt's eyes), the spacious room was warm and inviting, ready for the newest members of the Logan family. _Twins_. Even though she'd been vaguely aware that the chances of birthing multiples increased after a woman turned 35, it had been a joyous surprise the day her four-month sonogram had shown Lucy was carrying twin girls.

They really should have gotten a clue when the adorable bump that developed within mere weeks of their return from 2018–the one Lucy so proudly displayed-popped out practically overnight, making it look like the expectant mother was hiding a basketball under her shirt. Not long after, what Wyatt jokingly liked to call 'soccer tryouts' started up, times when all those tiny little limbs punched and kicked at the same time, prompting an exhausted Lucy to wonder aloud if she was carrying a whole baby soccer team in there. Thank heaven for her partner in this new adventure: steady, enthusiastic father-to-be Wyatt. Whenever the babies were restless, especially at bed time, Lucy would lie down and he would quietly read Dr. Seuss to them, his deep voice instantly calming their daughters. Despite her seemingly never ending fatigue, Lucy treasured those special moments.

In addition to the multiples risk factor, because of Lucy's age (40) and petite frame, hers had by no means been an easy pregnancy. To her chagrin, weeks had gone by since she had last seen her feet (Wyatt wryly confirmed they were still there), and no matter how religiously she applied the special cocoa butter lotion that Jiya swore by, at this stage of her pregnancy, even Lucy's stretch marks had stretch marks.

And then there were the emotional side effects. As her bump grew increasingly bigger, like any mom-to-be might, a hormonal Lucy experienced days when she felt enormous and ugly (maybe even hideous?), and suffered from doubts about what kind of mother she would be ( _thanks, Rittenhouse 'Mom of the Year' Carol Preston_ ). Without fail, though, Wyatt would sense her distress and immediately assure Lucy she was more beautiful to him every day and how much he loved her, no matter how many times it took to assuage her negative feelings. Yes, it had been a difficult pregnancy, but time and again, Wyatt had stepped up and faithfully kept his promise these past seven months, rarely leaving her side...

He had patiently held her hair back and murmured soothingly when morning sickness set in, not only every morning for months, but sometimes without warning during the evening as well. And like a champ, once her near-constant nausea passed and more than one of Lucy's appetites returned with a vengeance, the ex-soldier took that in stride, too. To his credit, for a number of weeks, Wyatt was never sure which Lucy he'd wake up with–the cranky one who rubbed her growing belly and sweetly demanded a breakfast worthy of a lumberjack, or the sexy tigress who climbed on top of his body with a determined gleam in her eyes and proceeded to have her wicked way with him-usually more than once–before they went to work.

During one particularly moody day just last week, Lucy had been standing in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom examining her reflection, and feeling more miserable by the minute. She was appalled at the sheer girth of her baby bump when she turned sideways, and perhaps rather shallowly, worried her previously flat (if not necessarily toned) stomach would never shrink back to normal after delivering the girls. Turning away from the mirror, Lucy's eyes filled as a wave of self pity washed over her. Why couldn't she be more like Jiya, who sailed through her pregnancy before bringing Hannah Rey Carlin into the world six months ago?

Awkwardly lowering herself onto the bed, Lucy stared at the ceiling while absently rubbing circles around her belly. "I'm sorry, little ones," she confided, "I really am excited to meet you, I just wish..." Lucy's voice trailed away in embarrassment when she caught sight of Wyatt standing in the doorway, smiling at her and looking hotter than any forty-year-old man had a right to. Gazing up at him, she swallowed thickly before whispering, "I don't know how you put up with me like this."

Wyatt frowned and lying down next to her, put his hand over one of hers as together they leisurely stroked her bump. Pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head, he paused thoughtfully before responding. "Lucy, there is no place or time I'd rather be. I never knew I could love anyone as much as I love you and our girls. The three of you mean everything to me."

In spite of her pleasure at his declaration, Lucy's guilty conscience drove her to blurt out, "I'm sorry I've been awful to be around sometimes. This being pregnant thing has been so much more difficult than I ever dreamed..." and she was surprised when Wyatt stopped her mid sentence.

"Lucy Preston," he admonished fondly, "Quit being so hard on yourself. These babies are a miracle, hell, _you_ are a miracle, to me. You make me so happy, sweetheart, that some days my feet hardly touch the ground. So what if you're kind of grumpy? Good grief, woman, you're growing not only one, but _two_ , human beings, and I think you're amazing." His blue eyes shone with so much love and devotion that Lucy couldn't help bursting into tears any more than Wyatt could hold back an amused chuckle.

Climbing off the bed, he gently tugged Lucy to her feet and after wiping away her tears, suggested (with an exaggerated leer) that a nice warm shower might relax her. Once they'd gotten undressed and were standing under the warm spray of water, Lucy acquired a sudden burst of energy and eagerly rewarded a very appreciative Wyatt for his infinite patience these past months. By the time the water started to cool, Lucy was deliciously relaxed and very sleepy, standing still long enough for Wyatt to carefully towel her off and slip one of his old tee shirts over her damp hair before tucking her in bed. Falling asleep on Wyatt's chest with the steady beat of his heart under her cheek, Lucy felt like the luckiest woman who ever lived.

Yes, Wyatt Logan was the best man she knew, an amazing father already, and Lucy loved him even more than she thought possible. And soon, their little family would double in size, and Lucy was absolutely certain the love she and Wyatt already shared would multiply also.

 _Epilogue_

Relaxing against the pillows of her hospital bed, Lucy couldn't remember feeling happier. After a thankfully short labor, raven-haired, blue-eyed Amy Elizabeth and Alice Emilia Logan were safely delivered, each weighing just under six pounds and measuring nineteen inches in length. No wonder she had begun to resemble a baby beluga whale the last week or so, Lucy playfully grumbled to Wyatt, who ignored her comment in favor of admiring the new arrivals, one held carefully in the crook of each arm.

Glimpsing the already besotted expression on Wyatt's face as he beheld his daughters, Lucy sighed in contentment. Their future had turned out to be more wonderful than she could have ever wished for. So many times since the night nearly eight years before when the Homeland Security agent had delivered Lucy to Mason Industries and her life had taken a direction she couldn't have imagined in her wildest dreams, she had often worried what the future held. With Wyatt at her side from the very beginning, though, she had always secretly hoped, believed, that there was a better life, a better world, for all of them, and at this very moment, watching the three people she loved most in any time period, Lucy Preston realized wishes really do come true.

 _A/N #2: After weeks, months really (looking at you, last 30 seconds of 'Hollywoodland') of writing and reading heavy angst, not to mention the horrible limbo NBC put us through, I finally hit a wall, Timeless friends, and desperately needed some Lyatt fluff–and this was the result. Perhaps wishful thinking on my part, but this is the type of future I imagine for Lucy and Wyatt. Hope you agree :) Thanks and deep appreciation always to everyone who reads, favorites, follows, and most especially, is kind enough to review my stories. This fandom is full of such wonderful people, and I love being part of it :))_


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